Foolish Royale
by Nikon Asturias
Summary: Tokyo, also known as Shinto Teito, has become the grounds for a twisted game. Fools are those who participate, one more foolish than the rest. Emiya Shirou has found himself in a familiar situation, except the rules and consequences are different. All he wanted to do was retire and live in peace. Now, he will have to demonstrate the consequences of attacking the New Magus Killer.
1. The First Dream

**I do not own Sekirei or Fate Stay Night; they belong to their respective owners. I do not make any profit off of this story. Please support the official release.**

The dream is always the same. A city is on fire.

A world burns.

 _I close my eyes every night. It never changes. I always return to the fire. It never goes away._

 _Smoke. There's so much smoke. It fills my nose. I can't breathe. I can barely move. I'm trapped. It's always the same. Every night, it's always the same._

A young boy fights through the rubble. A young boy defies death, when so many have not. A young boy wanders through the wasteland. A young boy ventures through Armageddon.

The dream is always the same.

 _I can still taste the ash on my tongue. It's so bitter. I want to throw up. I gag and I gag, again and again. It goes on forever. I keep going and I don't stop. I want to stop. I want it all to end but I keep going all the same._

 _The smoke gets worse. My nose is filled and my lungs are burning. I keep walking. I keep going but I don't know why. Why? Why do I keep going?_

A boy wanders. A boy gets lost in the blaze. He wants to die but he still keeps moving.

 _Why do I keep going? Why do I keep going? What's the purpose everyone's dead but me. Why am I alive?_

 _I can still hear the screams. I can hear them all screaming. They're all screaming. They're all screaming. Men. Women. Children. Old. Young. Wailing. Crying. There's so much screaming._

"Help me," an old man screams.

"Save my baby," a mother. "Somebody save my baby! Save my baby!"

"I don't want to die!"

"I want to live!"

"What did I do to deserve this?"

 _Can they stop the yelling? Can't it all end? Why won't it stop? Why doesn't any of this stop? Why can't it end?_

 _Stop the babies from screeching! Stop all of it! Stop it all!_

A boy keeps going but he doesn't know why.

The screaming stops, after so long, it finally stops. The boy is alone now. He walks. He staggers. He keeps going.

He can hear the cracking and the cackling of the fire. The flames get bigger. They swallow the air like drowning fish. The air gets heavy.

The fat crackles and pops. People are cooked, at least the ones that are not ashes. The boy gets hungry but ventures on. It fades.

A boy ventures through the remnants. He pushes past the dying and the weak. He steps over the hands of the dead. He leaves them in the dust and ash of the fire.

He keeps going. He does not know why.

His legs want to stop but the boy keeps going. He pushes forward. He wanders through the ash.

A thousand years go by.

A hundred years go by.

A decade.

A year.

A month.

A day.

A minute.

A second.

The boy doesn't know. It's forever. It's eternity. It's never-ending.

He keeps walking.

His legs beg for him to stop but he keeps forward. His mind is empty. His heart is broken. The boy feels nothing. His entire being is dying.

 _I'm tired. I'm tired._

The boy can go for only so long. They boy can only go for so long.

His legs finally stop. There's no reason to keep going.

 _It looks so nice…so nice._

The boy slouches and collapses in a pile of rubble. It's like a pillow. He can't even feel the fire anymore. He can't feel anything.

His eyes are getting heavy. He can't keep them open anymore. He doesn't really want to.

A voice calls him.

It's time for him to go.

It's time for him to leave.

There's nothing left for him.

All he has to do is let go and it will all be over. The pain. The fire. Everything. It will all be over.

He does.

The blackness comes. It envelops him. His body is consumed by the darkness but his eyes aren't. There's a white light.

It's blinding. There's nothing else but a white light. A bright white light that is everything. It has everything. It's home. It's comforting.

It's beautiful.

The boy wants to cry but he has no tears left.

He goes…

"He's alive!"

The boy hears another voice. A man.

"Thank God!"

The boy opens his eyes. He sees a man looking at him, a man in black. He looks desperate. He looks broken.

The boy looks at him.

"He's alive."

He's smiling. The man is smiling. He can smile in such wasteland. He's so happy.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

The man is holding his hand. The man smiles even more.

The boy looks at him.

 _I want to smile like that. I want to smile like him. Can I smile like that? Why can he smile like that?_

When darkness takes the boy a second time, he's in the man's arms. He carries him through the waste. He never leaves him.

The boy wants that smile.

Weeks pass and he's in a hospital room. The other kids smile and laugh but the boy doesn't. Not until he sees the man again.

His name is Emiya Kiritsigu. He offers to adopt the boy. He offers to call him his son. The boy accepts.

The boy is now Emiya Shirou.

Time passes and Shirou-

"Papa," a soft voice calls out. It belongs to a young girl.

-and Kiritsigu-

"Papa," she calls again.

The world shakes around him and the dream ends.

A man with grey eyes wakes up.

 **A/N:**

 **There you have it, the prologue for Foolish Royale. I hope it was up to par. While, I know this was not a particularly long prologue, it was never meant to be.**

 **Please leave a review on the way out. I would really appreciate it. Thank you for reading and have yourself a great day.**


	2. Welcome

**Disclaimer: I do not own FSN, Sekirei, or any other mentioned licensed material. They are owned by their respective owners. This is done for fun, and I make no profit from it. Please support the official release.**

Snapping his eyes awake, Emiya Shirou turned his head to the right. "Huh," he said. He used his hand to wipe away the sleep from his eyes. After seven hours on an airplane from London, he needed a little sleep. The past two hours he had done just that. Now, he needed to make sure his traveling companion was okay. "What is it, Takara?" There was a trace of his accent as he spoke in English.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she answered. A girl of five years, almost six, she was energetic, full of life. It was almost impossible to get her to sleep. She had twin white pigtails covered up by a deep blue sweatshirt.

"Oh," he said. "Alright."

Shirou picked up the girl gently and cradled her against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and yawned into his shoulder. She was still tired. "How did you sleep," he asked. He made his way through the narrow aisles. There were only a handful of people awake; most of the passengers were still sleeping. He could see the faint lights from overhead lamps, tablets, and laptops. They were the business type, dressed in suits or higher end clothing. The complete opposite of him, he wore an old worn blue and white t-shirt and a pair of broken in jeans, there were even a few old grease stains still in them from odd jobs.

"Okay," she cheerily replied. Though, it wasn't as enthusiastic as it normally was. "When do we get home?"

"Soon, princess." He gently pressed his lips against her forehead. She frowned in response. It was a bit difficult. A twelve-hour flight with such a young child, but he made do. A majority of the flight was spent reading to her from her favorite storybook, the abridged version of Grimm Fairytales, none of the gore or torture. It was just a collection of princesses and adventurers overcoming various trials and obstacles; each of them finding a happily ever after in the end.

Even he enjoyed them. It took away from reality at times, when it was less than pleasant. _I wonder if any of them are real?_

"Stop it," Takara protested. She scrunched her nose, turning her head away from her father. "It tickles."

"Hai," Shirou smiled. It was cute, just like her mother. She had the delicate face and wide cerulean of her mother. All she had of him was his white hair. "How did you sleep?"

All he got in response was a yawn. "That bad?"

"Mmm, I want to sleep in my bed," she mumbled lazily. She spoke in Japanese. "I don't like sleeping in chairs."

The father smiled again as he kissed her forehead this time. "Neither do I, but I promise you'll sleep in a bed as soon as we land."

All he got in reply was a sleepy grunt.

A minute later they were in front of the lavatory. Shirou opened the door for Takara, allowing her to use the restroom. He waited a few moments until she opened the door. He didn't hear a faucet turn on.

"Did you wash your hands?" His response was a pout and his daughter walking back into the bathroom.

He could hear a soft chuckling in the background. There was an elderly English woman smiling at him. She, from one parent to another, mouthed the word kids.

The father was more than inclined to agree. When Takara came out for a second time, he picked her up gently and walked back to their seats.

"She's adorable," the woman whispered, as they passed.

"She is," Shirou replied. He continued to his seats. He had to walk carefully, there were a few feet dangled in the aisles. He stepped over them gently before he returned back to their seats.

Once Takara was safely back in her seat, Shirou covered her with her discarded blanket that he found lying at her feet. He smirked. She yawned as she looked at her father. "When do we get home?"

"A few more hours," Shirou replied. He opened the window. It was still dark outside; another hour and it would be dawn. "Go back to sleep, I'll look over you."

"But I'm not tired," she said. Her eyes widened as she looked up. "I want to know more about home. You promised you tell me."

"I did," Shirou asked incredulously. Though he was joking, by the look on his daughter's face, he knew it went over her head. "Well, then, I guess I'll tell you. What do you want to know?"

"Is it like our old home?" She referred to London. Shirou knew that perfectly well. She had been born there and raised there for most of her life. There was the occasional visit to Finland or Italy, when he would take her with him if circumstance allowed, but for the most part they stayed in England. Sometimes they would take drives to the country, or a bus, sometimes even a train. Sometimes spend them in museums or visit old historical sites.

One, in particular, was visited by them monthly. There would be a picnic every time they visited. They would have Teriyaki Beef when they went.

"In a way," Shirou said. "The food's different, but that doesn't mean much. The people are nicer, and you can understand them easier." That made him smile. When he first went to London, it was as if everyone spoke another language. He got lost three times on his first day because he couldn't understand the directions. In the end, he had to buy a map to get to his destination. It was an embarrassing day for him. Though, it was not as embarrassing as using his own daughter as a translator.

"What else?"

"Well, there's a lot of people. The money's different, we won't be using pounds anymore." He grunted. The truth was, both cultures were diverse. The city life in Japan was a lot more face paced than London. It was a literal dog eat dog world. The youth was obsessed with Western Culture at times, or obsessed with their fictional worlds. _It's like that everywhere, now that I think about it. Why do people always want to be somewhere else?_ "Everyone speaks Japanese, so we won't be speaking English as much."

"But I can't really think of too many other differences. Really, Japan has a lot of similarities, but the little differences go a long way."

He didn't get a response. "Takara," Shirou turned his head.

Cuddled into a ball, his daughter was asleep. He could hear her gentle snoring. He closed his eyes again, venturing off into his dream.

The one he had every night.

Shirou was woken up an hour later, courtesy of a stewardess. She was African descent with long black curls. She was fairly pretty. "Sir," she spoke fluent Japanese. "We'll be landing soon."

"Thank you," the Magus stretched his strained muscles. The aftermath of sleeping in a small place had that affect. "What time is it?"

"Just after nine," she replied with a smile.

"Thank you," Shirou bowed his head. When the stewardess left, he turned to Takara. She was still asleep, curled into herself, her head lying on the pillow he had set out for her during the night. He almost didn't want to wake her up.

"Takara," his voice was soft. "You need to get up." He gently prodded her side. This was dangerous territory. She had a dangerous habit of being woken up early. "Takara," he repeated.

The inevitable happened. His young daughter became a demon. Takara leapt from her seat.

Shirou could not defend himself. Tiny fists were beating against his head, teeth gnawed on his nose.

"Ita, ita, ita," his cries of defeat echoed softly. He did not want to disturb the other passengers. "Ita! Takara, Takara!" The man was nearly helpless before her. He was over four times her size, a veteran Magus, and faced many horrors others would cower at. All of that meant nothing, as he was not only to be bested by a five year old but his own daughter. His old colleagues would be laughing themselves to high heaven at the sight.

"Takara, Takara! It's me tou-chan," Shirou managed through a nasally voice. He patted her on the back, and he could feel her fists moving to his skull. "It's tou-chan!"

With the latest plea, the barrage of mallets and razors ceased. Aquamarine eyes stared into his own, and his daughter smiled. "Sorry, papa." She transitioned to English. "Sorry." She averted her eyes in embarrassment. More than a few eyes had turned to them, and the once cute girl was seen as something far, far worse. But to her father, she was seen as nothing more than the girl who inherited her mother's own fierce temper.

"It's alright," Shirou whispered. His arms encircled her tiny frame. "We'll be home soon." His lips gently pressed against her crown. He wanted her to stop crying, he knew that she would. She had too much pride to continue, despite the shame.

"It's alright."

They touched down minutes later, and were off board shortly after. Shirou had put on his old leather jacket. It was a gift from an old Christmas. It was black and had cracked along the sleeves. He left it open. He carried a backpack over one shoulder, the same as Takara. Although, his was a dark blue in the same condition as his jeans, and hers was a deep red plastered with a few stickers. On the sides of her pack were birds, toucans and parrots, and in the middle were the big cats, a lion and a tiger. Her aunt had given her the latter.

The father and daughter walked through the crowded airport, with him holding on to her hand. It was easy to lose a child in places like the ones they were in. He knew it, he had heard of the nightmare many times in his life, a parent losing a child. He never knew how frightening the idea was until he had become a father himself. The prospect of a small and fragile being, that's a part of you as she is another, was something he never expected to have.

Then again, no one ever expects it. It just happens. They can only prepare for the responsibility a child requires. He did, and it was the same for Rin.

She was so scared when she found out she was pregnant. Shirou still remembered that day. She complained about his cooking first, which she never did. He should have known then, but he was never the brightest person, his wife's words. He tried a few dishes, varying from Oriental to Mediterranean. She refused them all.

Then, the strangest thing happened. Rin actually ordered him to buy her black pudding, Mandarin oranges, ketchup, jalapenos, and bologna. Reluctantly, he did. Then, he watched her eat it all, with an appetite that would make a starving man hesitate to eat. Nothing was left on her plate; she ate it all, and washed it down with coconut milk. He still cringed and felt green at the memory.

The mood swings that followed should have been strong hints too, but Rin was a tsundere. She always had mood swings, but they were more excessive at that point. One moment, she was kind and caring. The next moment, the living room was on fire, literally, because Shirou said something wrong. Then…then came the hunger. This didn't involve food. No, it was as pleasurable as it was horrifying.

So, he spent a lot of time at work, a lot of time. After a week, his superiors told him that Rin was pregnant. Shirou went pale; it surprised them since his complexion changed with his magecraft. He had to be slapped back to reality, before he went home and asked Rin if she was late. She confessed that she had been late. The last time she remembered having a visit was two months before.

They spent the evening in the bathroom, looking over a dozen pregnancy tests that all had the same answer. Shirou was scared, frightened, petrified, horrified, and everything in between. He was going to be a father. A father. Saying that he was unsure was an understatement. Rin couldn't stop crying. Her biggest problem was that she was going to be fat. She didn't want to be fat. She didn't want to get new clothes. She didn't want to throw up, she didn't want her feet to disappear, she didn't want to limit her time in the Clocktower, and she didn't want to be fat.

Shirou held on to her while she cried. He shed a few tears himself. They were absolutely terrified of the little girl whose hand he held.

But, he wouldn't change it for anything now. All the fear and paranoia of being a parent, he wouldn't trade them for anything. So, he held on to his daughter's hand, refusing to ever let her go.

"Where do we go now," Takara squeaked. She held on to her father's fingers as they continued through the crowds.

"I need to get the rest of our bags but first we need to go through security," Shirou said. "Then we'll get some food, and then we'll go wait for our ride to come and get us. How does that sound?"

"Okay."

It was easier said than done. The line to get through security was incredibly long. They had to wait over forty minutes before it was their turn. All the while Shirou had to deal with an energetic five-year old, and keep her from getting bored. It was an impossible task. However, the closer they got to the front, the closer he got to learning the reason to their delay.

There were large metallic pod like machines at the front. The sides were metallic, and in the center was a glass doorway. It flew open and shut rapidly, and at all times. The mechanics working on it seemed to be having trouble with the machine. So, they must have been new.

By the time it was their turn, Shirou had taken off Takara's shoes and set them on the conveyor belt, along with his, their bags, and all the material in their pockets. A member of security, a grey haired woman, chuckled when she saw a small toy penguin go into the tray.

"What," Shirou shrugged. "She likes birds."

A moment later, his daughter walked through the metal detector. It cleared her to go through, not that it would go off. Shirou followed her a moment later, stepping through. It was the same as her.

They made their way to the benches on the side. His daughter still hadn't learned how to tie her shoes, so he had to help her with it. As he did, he looked over to see a few members of the airport staff talking. He couldn't help himself, so, he listened in on their conversation.

"Can you believe M.B.I. got the clearance to do this?" One of them asked. He was an older man, his hair was a memory and his face was covered in fuzz. "What's next?"

"Hey," the younger of the two men replied. He looked to be in his early twenties. "The world revolves around money. They happen to have a lot. Besides, it's easier to agree with the crackpot than to argue. You know what happens to people who say no."

"Yeah, M.B.I. runs them into the ground." Shirou finished double knotting his daughter's left shoe. "Still, they can't bully us into doing what they want."

"Don't try to change the world, just live in it, I say." The young man droned. "Besides, what's the worst a little extra security will do? It's not like either of us is a criminal. It'll just warn us if we have one."

"Security…that's how it starts. They want to keep you safe, then…that's how it starts kid. The next thing you know, they'll be watching what you do. They'll be recording what you say. If they don't like it, they can lock you up."

The young man rolled his eyes at the same time Shirou finished the second shoe. He sat down and began working on his own.

Shirou had heard of M.B.I. It stood for Mid Bio Informatics. The CEO and founder was a man by the name of Minaka Hiroto, the genius of the generation before his. The man had created one of the greatest corporation's in modern history. The marvels created by them were considered to be generations before their time. Some speculated they were brought from the future, a speculation that worried the Association immensely. A few people he had known were tasked with investigating the main facility in Tokyo. The searches brought up nothing, and the investigations ceased immediately.

There was also the investigation into the past of Minaka himself, but nothing came about it either. He was an only child, orphaned at a young age. He had no wife, or children. His only legacy was M.B.I., but that alone was something to be remembered in the generations to come.

When the two men walked away, Shirou had finished and he and Takara walked off.

They had claimed their pair of luggage, and had gotten breakfast. Shirou had broken his rule that morning. He bought junk food for them both, despite his vow to never let her consume the insult to the culinary arts. It came as a relief to him when she voiced her displeasure at the food. She looked disgusted after eating McDonalds. He would make a fine chef out of her yet.

They made their way to the passenger pick up zone, waiting for their ride to come. He was an old friend. Shirou had met him years ago in London. Rin had introduced them to one another. She promised he was a person worth trusting, and he always kept his word.

Three hours of waiting had all but removed his faith in the man. So, the moment he saw the 2014 BMW blue mini-van that his friend had gotten for his birthday last summer, was a somewhat relief. The vehicle came to a standstill in front of the father, and his now sleeping daughter. A man jumped out from the other side, almost too young to be called a man.

His name's Cavan Anderson. He was nineteen and was attending university in Shin Teito; he had just started his second year. He had been living in Japan for the last year and a half, given the role of overseeing the city, and ensuring nothing required the Church's attention. A big job for most people, considering the traffic and size of the population, but his family had a history of dealing with immense situations.

"Captain," he said. His English was accented by his Irish blood. He waved his massive arm in the air. He stood at six four, but was still seen as the runt of his family. He had a bright blonde crew cut, with equally bright green eyes, and clean cut, giving him a hint of a boyish face. He was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt, the emblem of his favorite football team over his heart, and black soccer shorts. He still had on his cleats, and there was sweat still on his face.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I thought you were coming tomorrow." He opened up the back and passenger doors. He straightened up, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I guess I mixed up the dates."

"Right," Shirou said. He gave his younger friend a conniving smirk. He would get his revenge. "How are you, Cavan?" He had picked up Takara and brought her to the door. He set her in the back seat. "It's been what…six months?"

"Nine, actually." The younger magus hesitantly corrected his elder. He grabbed one of the luggage suitcases, the black one. "But who's counting?"

Shirou buckled in Takara, who had yet to wake up. "Yeah. So, how are you?"

"Can't complain," Cavan smiled. He went back around the car and took the other case. "School's not bad, I've got interesting friends, and the sights are great." He added with a chuckle.

The eye roll was followed by a groan, _Hormones._ Shirou could not help himself. Despite all protests, he knew the boy had only gone to Japan for his fetish for Japanese women. He always said otherwise. _Damn Irish._ "I'm sure they are."

"Yeah," the boy had grabbed the last of the bags and took put them away. Shirou had already taken his place in the front passenger seat, and leaned back into the chair. It was much more comfortable than the chair on the twelve hour plane ride from London. He blinked, and they were off.

"So," Shirou started up their conversation again. "Any news from the realtor? I have the funds for a deposit if he needs it now." He had been in contact with five different agents in the capital. The first four were less than useless, and the fifth was actually helpful. The man, Tanaka Ichirou, had been able to work miracles, with M.B.I. buying up so many properties in the city. The average cost for property had skyrocketed, rent included. It was difficult before, but the corporation was almost making it impossible for people to move in.

Shirou had to delay his move because of it. Tanaka had been effective; he stayed ahead of the giant but still managed to get caught in its shadow. He had lost out on three apartments already, but four was his lucky one. All he had to do was come in person, sign the paper work and the deposit check, and the property was his. It was the first thing he was going to do, after he dropped off Takara and their belongings at Cavan's home.

"About that," Cavan cringed. He took a right, driving them right by a bus. "I'm…"

"What," Shirou turned away from the city. "What happened?"

The young magus took in a deep breath. "We…uh…he…"

"He what," Shirou said. "What happened, Cavan?"

With a sharp intake of air, Cavan said, "He went out of business."

"What?"

"He closed up shop last week. I tried calling him…I did. I'm surprised he didn't call you or you know, anyone for that matter." He looked away, coming to a stop. He pulled over onto a side street, away from the city traffic. "I thought you'd know…but…I'd… you know."

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell you. I figured you'd want to come home. You've been away for a long time. I thought you'd like to come home." The boy sighed.

It wasn't in his nature to be angry. It would take a lot of factors to make Shirou angry, and they would have to be extreme. This was not one of them. "So, what was your plan then. When me and Takara landed, where were we supposed to stay. We have our things being shipped as we speak. We…we were supposed to move into a new home, but we don't have one."

"Well, there's still my place. I got plenty of room."

"Please," Shirou shook his head and took in a deep breath. "You don't Cavan. We…we need a place to stay and…" He could not find the words. This unraveled all of his plans.

"And you won't go back to Fuyuki," Cavan added for him. "I know. But hear me out." He turned to the passenger seat. "I figured you might say that, so I found a place for you."

"An apartment?"

"A boarding house," Cavan corrected.

"A boarding house," Shirou repeated. "A boarding house, really? You expect me to take my daughter to a boarding house?" That extreme was approaching faster than he expected.

"No, no, no, no, no." Cavan waved his hands in front of his face. "It's not like you think. It's a nice place, it's spacious, and it's got a yard and all of that good stuff. The place is like an old style house, like your old one." He smiled in plea, exposing his front teeth. "Not to mention there's…I'll shut up now."

Shirou took in a deep breath, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We shouldn't have left London." He whispered so that only heard himself.

"You couldn't find any apartments?"

"No," Cavan said. "I tried, everyday. I kept calling places, but…you know how it is for foreigners."

"Yeah," Shirou sighed. Realty for foreigners was a nightmare, half-breeds too. "You don't have any space in your place, I know that much."

"I do, but it's not much." The boy admitted,

"I know…" Shirou looked down. He couldn't believe his luck. He didn't understand what he did to deserve it. "So," he consented. "What's this place called?"

"Maison Izumo." Cavan answered, he pulled out a piece of paper. "I called the owner yesterday, she seemed nice. It's a decent price, and everything. She'd like to meet you in person though, you know, to discuss the arrangement face to face."

"I'd imagine." Shirou let out a final sigh. "Come on, just get us back to your home. We'll talk about it more there."

"Alright, Captain."

"I'm retired, Cavan. I don't hold rank anymore," Shirou corrected, as he glanced into the rearview mirror. He could see his daughter snoring, as she snapped. "I'm just a chef, now."

"You'll always be the Captain to me," Cavan started the engine, and turned on his blinker. They drove back to his home in a queer silence.

 **AN:**

 **Hey there, sorry this is late, but it's been a difficult chapter to write.**

 **I promise to fix all grammar mistakes later, but feel free to leave a review.**

 **Good news, I have chapters two to twelve detailed and completely outlined. The romance is set, and will be revealed as the story progresses.**

 **If anyone has any questions, feel free to leave a review or send a message.**

 **Also, Shirou's appearance is that of Archer's from FSN. It will be explained later.**

 **Cavan Anderson is an OC. He isn't a main character but he does play a significant role in this story.**

 **Emiya Takara is the daughter of Emiya Shirou and Tohsaka Rin. Again, an OC. More about her will be explained later, as the story progresses.**

 **I have other stories on my profile if you're interested.**

 **Thanks for reading. You have a good one.**

 **-Nikon Asturias**


	3. A New Start

**Disclaimer: I do not own FSN, Sekirei, or any other licensed materials mentioned in this story. I make no profit from this and do it solely for fun. Please support the official release.**

Shirou gazed around at the living room in front of him. In all honesty, he was already fazed by what was before him. Cavan was nineteen; it would have surprised him if it were actually clean. There were old soda and beer cans lying around on the floor, most of them were imported. The boy was a fan of an English beer. It was sold and distributed in one county. The exact location eluded him, but the fact would wound his grandfather. There had not been a friendly relationship between his clan and the English. A few half opened journals rested on the couch next to textbooks. They focused on history and myth. A few used plates and forks on the counter top. CD and DVD cases lying on a desk in the far corner.

Overall it was the average house of a bachelor. He was a teenage bachelor, but a bachelor still.

"Is this what you live in," Shirou turned his back to Cavan.

The young magus smiled at him. He chuckled awkwardly, his face turning crimson. "It's not that bad…I cleaned up at least."

"This is cleaning up," Shirou did a double take. He could admit he had a habit of being excessive when it came to the cleanliness of his home, but he had that quirk since he was a child. It was nothing new for him. But this…this was not clean. Instead, it reminded him of a war zone. _This is like Rin's old apartment._ The memory sent shivers down his spine. _So many roaches._ "How was it before?"

"I had to fight my way out of here." Cavan looked prideful at that. "It was a great battle, one worthy of song."

The magus stared at his counter part. "You messed with a dimensional spell, didn't you?"

There was a pause. For a terse minute there was silence. "I regret nothing."

"Your grandfather would kill me if you did that when I was around." Shirou stepped through the threshold. "Especially if I didn't stop you."

"Eh, what the old man don't know won't hurt him." The Irishman shadowed him inside. He set the bags down by the door. "The guest room is down the hall on the right, next to the Picasso. The bathroom's right across. Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Shirou did a quick look around the apartment. It bothered him to watch the apartment in the state it was in. Everything was out of place, filthy but manageable. Habitable was not in his standards, however. No, this needed to be addressed immediately.

"Take Takara to the movies." Shirou reached for his wallet. He pulled out twenty thousand yen. He made a generous exchange the day before the flight. "My treat. Go for lunch, to the arcade, and take her to the toy store."

"Why?" Cavan accepted the currency. "Not that I'm complaining. It's not that bad."

The urge to slap his own forehead was great, but his desire not to was greater. "Let's not argue about this. Just take her and go out for a while. I'll clean."

"You sure," the smile was blinding. "I don't mind helping you…"

"Do you really want to help me clean?"

"No," he answered. "Not really. I was hoping you clean it for me."

Shirou was not surprised n the least. Cavan's family had a history of using him for cooking and cleaning, the last three generations to be more specific. "Alright." He was careful as he walked over to the guest room, his bags in hand. "But you have to wake up, Takara."

"What?"

"You heard me. Go on. I'll be fine. Enjoy your day together."

"But she bites."

"I know," Shirou called back. "It's your problem now." He loved his daughter, really. She was his world. But waking her up was an occupational hazard. She always attacked when startled. He would be proud if he weren't so tired of it. "Don't forget to bring in the rest of the luggage. Have fun."

The protests were squashed with the slam of the door. A benefit of having a western styled homed. "God bless the Church."

The room was bare for the most part. There was twin sized bed in the middle of the room, one each side was a small table. The right wall had a long brown dresser against it. On top of it was a television with a back. It was at least fifteen years old.

Shirou began to unpack a few of the belongings inside the luggage, though not much. They'd be moving out, with any luck, the next day. He shared his luggage with several of Takara's friends. "Good morning, Mister Fuzzy." A pink rabbit with a yellow belly was placed on the bed. "Good afternoon, Miss Sunshine." A grey elephant with a blue trunk joined her companion. She was missing an eye. "Good day, Mister Wolf." A unoriginal name, for an unoriginal plushy, a black wolf with yellow plastic eyes with green irises joined his fellow mammals. "

Takara enjoyed her plushies. Every chance she had, she got a new one. Some were generic: rabbits, dogs, kittens, a unicorn, and dolphins. Others were unique, gifts from his former coworkers, two nuns in particular, that were meant to frighten the weak. But his daughter was far from it. She was her mother's daughter.

Shirou looked at her plushies one more time. Then, he grabbed the last one. There were no bright colors or exaggerated gimmicks. This one, unlike the others, was simple and sweet. It was a gift from her mother. It was the average brown teddy bear, hand crafted from a small town in Germany. Rin picked it out herself, right after the news. He gently rubbed his hand across its belly, and tightened the little bow tie on its forehead.

"Hello Mama Bear," Shirou whispered. His wife named her the moment she found her. "Sorry about this. We couldn't really bring you all onboard with us. And I'm sorry your family's in a box right now, somewhere in the world." Their boxes may have been halfway to Japan at this point. The shipping had cost him more than an arm and a leg.

"I promise, I won't do it again." He smiled. "I hope we don't have to move again." He would have continued his little conversation, if it weren't for the feminine screaming coming from the front yard. Takara said hello to Cavan.

"Revenge." Shirou got to work.

II:

The next few hours were spent in a blur. Shirou grabbed all the cleaning supplies Cavan had stored up beneath the sink. Granted they were little more than the basics, wipes, sponges, and carpet stain remover were all he found, but he could make do with it. The problem wasn't as bad as it looked.

A few trash bags, some time washing plates in the sink, and cleaning all the little stains around the kitchen took him around an hour. And he took his time. Shirou decided it was best to leave the textbooks and the media cases alone. He didn't need to disorganize what he felt was a system the boy had.

When this was all said and done, he decided to undergo his second challenge. The bathroom. That was a true horror show. There was dust all around the toilet, towels were lying on the floor, and a few stains that need not have their origin described. That was a little bit of a greater task and after the better half of three hours he was done.

"Never again," Shirou walked out of the bathroom, more tired and exhausted than when he entered. He felt it was best to change.

Fifteen minutes later, cleaned and dressed in fresh clothes, a pair of jeans and one of his many other light blue shirts, Shirou made his way into the kitchen. He figured it was best to get started on dinner and he was relieved to see he had a freedom of choice.

Cavan was many things. Lazy and messy were the first two things to come to mind, but he was always well prepared, for any and all situations. His refrigerator was stocked from top to bottom. In plastic containers there was pre-cooked meats, vegtables, rice, potatoes, and more. The sides were lined with dressings and sauces, along with a healthy supply of milk. The vegetable and fruit drawers were stocked to the brim. He had a preference for assorted greens and apples, along with a healthy count of bananas. The freezer below was overflowing with meat and fish. He had frozen pork on top of chicken in one corner and swordfish steaks on top of prime rib in the other, then everything else in between that. The pantries were stocked with spices, pasta, and baking goods. His bread bin was full too.

"Please be fresh." Shirou pulled out a packet of rolls. He gave them a few slight squeezes. It was still good. "Let's get started on dinner." He grabbed his phone to check the time. It was just past five. He typed a text to Cavan, telling him that he'd have dinner ready within the next hour and a half. Then, he got to work.

The dish for the night was hamburgers. It was nothing special, until it went through the hands of the tracer. He had once made a burger so good, the Pope himself swore to God and the Heavens above that he had found the path to Holy. It led to a few bad situations but it resolved itself in the end.

Shirou got to his preparations. He had pulled out a large helping of ground beef and began to knee it. A big part to his recipe was for him to make it soft before he actually seasoned it. It helped with the flavor. After ten minutes or so, he would mix in two eggs, to keep the meat together, along with his own special teriyaki sauce. Being short on time, he opted for the store brand in Cavan's icebox. He dropped in the right amount, going by eye, before he mixed it all together. An assortment of spices added in the process. Afterwards, he needed to let it sit for the next thirty minutes. Next came the potatoes.

They were simple. He grabbed the peeler and stripped down four. This required no patience, he'd done so for so long that it had become second nature to him. When he was a novice, in another life, he had been forced to peel two thousand potatoes. And he was not allowed to use his tracing. It took him almost two days, with the occasional break in between, only if he wasn't caught. With the second task done, he'd grabbed the pot and pan needed for actually cooking.

The pan for the meat was rubbed down in butter. Shirou had used a good amount, not too much to ruin the taste but enough for the right amount of flavor. The pot for the potatoes had been filled with peanut oil. He'd preferred it to olive oil. The fat gave the fries a better taste, along with more of a crunch. The bread was then roasted inside the oven.

A half hour later, the food was finished. There was a bowl filled with French Fries, four burgers on three plates, and two colas for the kids. Shirou had opted for the Earl Grey in Cavan's cupboard. He missed England, just a little. A majority of the last ten years of his life had been spent on that Island, the rest where work had needed him. Japan had not been his home for a long time.

Ten minutes after finishing the dinner his patrons had returned.

Takara skipped inside. Shirou smiled at his daughter. "Takara-chan," he greeted.

"Tou-chan," she returned in a high pitch. She had a hat on her head, a brand new hat. It was in the shape of a panda. She already had two from other zoos, which he assumed they went to. "You missed it." She crashed into her father, wrapping her arms around him. He scoped her up and carried her in his arms.

"Did you have fun with Cavan-san," Shirou smirked. The boy hated to be called any propriety. He only did it for amusement.

"Hai," she agreed. "We went to the zoo, and the arcade, and we brought home some Dorayaki."

"You did," Shirou asked. It wasn't her favorite, but she did have a taste for it. "Did you have any before dinner?"

"No."

"Takara."

"I didn't."

"Takara?"

"Okay…I had one." Takara scrunched her nose, looking down. It was never just one.

"Just one," Shirou looked at her closely. He knew her tell. She was lying.

"Really," she protested.

"Takara."

"I had two…"

"Takara…"

"Fine, it was three."

Shirou smiled. "See, it's not nice to lie. Isn't it?"

"No," his daughter looked down. "Can I have another for dessert?"

"Just one?"

"Just one."

"Okay," she chirped. Takara would try to make it two. She had a habit for it. The key was her puppy-eyes. Shirou would just have to ignore them, or at least try to.

"So, where's our host?"

"Right here." Shirou looked to the doorway. He saw an exhausted and out of breath magus. It looked like he had just walked out of a battlefield, barely. "What happened," he asked out of courtesy. But he already knew the answer to it. A five year old could be a dangerous weapon when unleashed. They had an almost unlimited amount of energy.

"Rough day," he added.

"You have no idea," Cavan began to limp inside. In his hands were two bags. One was marked with the emblem of a bakery downtown, the author with the Ueno Zoo logo.

"I'm her father, I think I have a better idea than you." And he did. There were sleepless nights and stressful days, too many to count already, and many more to come in the future.

Dinner was spent in comfort. Takara talked about their trip to the zoo. She talked about the tigers, the gorillas, the seals, the lions, and almost everything she could think of. At the same time she talked with her mouth full.

When she finished talking about the zoo, she talked about Cavan. The boy took her to his favorite bakery, run by a grandmother and all of her grandchildren. One of them, a girl, was talking to him, until Takara had forced him to leave.

"They wouldn't stop talking," she complained. "All they talked about were…hey, what did you two talk about?"

Cavan choked on his soda. "What?"

"What did you talk to that girl about, I couldn't hear it."

"Things," he replied. "Just things."

Shirou noticed the boy's blush. He still had his little anxiety around the opposite sex. It was nice seeing it on the other foot.

Dinner was followed by dessert, and that was followed by bedtime for Takara. He tucked her in before kissing her forehead goodnight. She had fallen asleep on the way to her room.

"Good night, Takara," Shirou placed her teddy bear next to her. Her arms found it and she clutched on to her friend.

Cavan met him in the living room. He had a tall bottle of Sake and two glasses in hand. "I thought you could use a drink, Captain." He spoke in English.

"Thanks," Shirou replied in English and accepted the glasses.

They spent the next half hour drinking. At first they talked about simple things. Cavan explained his schooling situation. His second year was starting soon. He aimed for completing his degree in mechanical engineering. He was quite knowledgeable in modern sciences, along with most of the newest generation of magus in the world. In fact, the capital had a high amount of them living there.

"How goes work," Shirou sipped his glass. It was only his second.

"Same as always. I keep the newbies in line, the old ones know the rules, and I call the Church if anything happens. But nothings happened." He leaned back on his couch. "Nothing ever happens here."

"Boring's good," Shirou commented. "You don't want exciting." He had years of excitement. It wore down on the body, the spirit too.

"Says you, Captain." He straightened up. "I'm wasted here." His eyes had fire in them. "I just sit here and go to school. There's nothing for me to do. I need to do something."

"You're already doing something here." Shirou sipped his drink again. "It's simple for you here. You just make sure no one gets out of line." Cavan was the second owner of Shin Teito in all but name. An agreement between the Church and the Association made it so. The boy just didn't like being grounded.

"This is how everyone starts."

"Well, I'm not everyone. I'm Cavan Anderson. I'm a fighter. It's in my blood." He had a flair for the dramatics, another quality the last three generations of his family shared. "We're meant to guard the sheep, not join the lambs."

"You need to stop reading the Bible." Shirou commented. "You get too dramatic at times."

"At least I'm not a fucking heretic."

"Watch your language," Shirou turned to the hall. "I don't want Takara picking up any of it."

"Sorry, sorry," Cavan returned. "I forgot. I've been living alone for so long…you just get used to doing whatever you want."

"I know the feeling." The pair shared a look. "It's difficult, but it's manageable."

"It can be. So, you got any work lined up?"

Shirou nodded. "There are a few restaurants I've called up. I got a few interviews scheduled for next week."

"That's good." Cavan paused. "If it's any conciliation, I'm sorry about the apartment."

"It's alright." Shirou replied. "It wasn't your fault."

"Still."

"There's nothing we can do about the past, Cavan. Just try to learn from."

The next morning they left for boarding house at eleven. The landlord was expecting them at around noon, and it was courteous to be at least fifteen minutes early. They ended up being only five minutes late.

"Consider it to be fashionable," Cavan said as he pulled over into a side street. He had opted for his normal attire. He grabbed his usual black overcoat that stopped about halfway to his knees. Beneath it was a white collared shirt with a brown tie. He sported black slacks and steel toe boots. "It's not like we're an hour late."

"Yeah," Shirou replied. _You wanted to sleep fifteen more minutes._ "Let's just get this over with." He himself had put on something more appropriate than his young counterpart. He was wearing a white collared shirt as well, along with coming his hair back instead of his usual unkempt self. He wore a black tie with red diagonal stripes, black slacks and his sneakers. His dress shoes had been packed away in the wrong box and Cavan was three sizes bigger than him, he was a size fifteen. "And hope it goes well."

Shirou reached in the back and picked up Takara. She was dressed in a collared shirt, continuing their pattern, a red bow on her neck, matching the twins in her pigtails. She wore a long skirt and her favorite black shoes.

"Is this where we live now?"

"Maybe," Shirou told her. "Maybe. We just need to talk to the landlord first."

Cavan stepped in front of him. "Come on, Captain. Let's head over."

Shirou and his daughter followed him down the street. The neighborhood was nice. It gave him a comfortable feeling. The nostalgic tranquility he remembered from his early childhood seemed to be the aura in the area. It was nice.

"Here it is," Cavan announced.

There they were. In front of them was a large house. Shirou noted that it was similar to his father's old home, which was technically his. It had the architecture of a Japan from long ago, but at the same time it felt modern. It felt like a place that could be a home.

"So, Captain," Cavan smiled. "What do you think?"

"It looks nice, but I need to see the inside too."

"I like it," Takara added. "Is this like your old home, papa?"

"It reminds me of it, Takara, but it was a little bit bigger."

"How much bigger?"

"A little bit," he replied, but possibly a lot.

They made their way through the threshold of the property, arriving at the front door. There was a small garden along the walls of the house. The grass looked considerably healthy as well.

"It looks nice," Shirou shrugged. "But lets talk to the landlord first."

Cavan reached for the doorbell. It rang once, but there was no reply. "Huh," he shrugged. He pressed it again.

"Coming," a woman's voice echoed through the door. A few moments later, the door was wide open and the owner of the voice stepped out. "Yes, can I help you?"

Shirou had seen his fair share of beautiful women, many beautiful women. But this woman was stunning. She had long lavender hair, flowing down her back and along the sides of her face. She had short bangs, kept even on her forehead. The hairstyle was familiar to him but he could not remember the name. She dressed in a white haori, along with a purple hakama. Her eyes were the most stunning part of her. They were a rich brown.

He did not show his surprise. He'd expected an older woman closer to sixty than a young woman in her twenties. It was not the worst of surprises.

"Hello," she said. Her voice was delicate. "Who are you?"

"My name is Anderson Cavan," Cavan spoke in Japanese. He bowed his head. "I called you about the vacant room. My friend here is looking for lodging for him and his family for the time being."

Realization spread across her face. "Oh yes, I'm sorry." She returned the gesture. "My name is Asama Miya, I own this inn."

Shirou regained his bearings before speaking. "I'm Emiya Shirou," he set down Takara. "And this is my daughter, Takara." They did a quick bow.

"Well, come in, come in," Miya said. "I guess you want to see the property then."

"Yes," Shirou replied. "It would be nice." He allowed his daughter to step inside after Miya, and he followed Cavan.

The tour was simple. Their room would be on the second floor. It was room two-oh-two. The third and fifth rooms were occupied. Her other residents were a young woman, who was off at the grocery store, and a man, who was currently sleeping since he works nights. They had to be quiet for him. She did not mention the first room, and they did not ask.

The room he and Takara would occupy was really spacious, more than enough space for two futons. There was a dresser and closet, along with a desk. It had all the basics they would need. It would do, at least on a temporary basis.

The downstairs was nice as well. The doors were rice paper, _Takara will need to get used to them._ The common room was comfortable. The TV was bigger than the one they had in England, almost twice its size.

The kitchen, though, that was what sold him on the inn. He almost smiled when he walked inside. It needed no words, and he knew the landlady caught his smile. She had successfully sold her pitch, now came the negotiations.

"Asama-san," Shirou began, "Do you mind if my daughter and friend use your backyard while we discuss this arrangement?"

"Of course not," she replied.

Five minutes later and a fresh pot of tea in front of them, Shirou and Miya sat across from one another. She had insisted on making the tea, and being a guest, Shirou had conceited to her demands.

"Thank you," Shirou replied as he accepted the fresh cup. He took a sip. It was good. He had to admit this woman could make a good cup of tea.

"It's no problem." Miya replied, as she took a sip from her own. "I trust that you wish to move into my inn."

"If it's not too much trouble," Shirou chuckled. "I'd like to move in as soon as possible."

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because I slept on a couch last night, and my neck is really stiff. I'd rather not repeat that if I can."

Miya chuckled into her palm. She seemed brighter with her smile. "I believe we can accommodate you."

"Thank you," Shirou bowed his head slightly. "So, not to sound rude, what exactly is the rent to stay here?"

"The rent is only fifty thousand yen a month, I accept any and all payments, except anything to do with M.B.I." Her tone took a dark turn at that moment, but only a brief second. The venom suggested a bad history. It wasn't his business to ask.

"Well, I don't have any connections with the business, so that shouldn't be a problem. And the payment isn't an issue for me. We only plan on staying for two months, maybe three at most. I can pay ahead of time, right now if you want."

"That won't be necessary, Emiya-san," Miya shook her head. "I collect at the fifth of every month."

"Alright then." Shirou nodded. "Are there any other rules or conditions that I need to know about?"

"Only two, Emiya-san. I do not allow violence on these premises and nor do I allow any lewd acts of behavior. But I don't think they apply to you"

"I would hope so," he returned. "But I do have a request, would it be alright if I use your kitchen."

Miya gave him a confused look. "It isn't," she said. "But why would you be interested. Meals are part of the agreement."

Shirou adjusted himself. "I mean no disrespect but I am an avid cook…actually," he scratched the back of his head. "I'm a chef by profession, I'm just in between jobs right now, moving back to Japan and all."

"Ah, you're a chef. Where did you study?"

"Italy, right after high school." _Well, I learned that among other things._ "Then I moved to England and worked for a private school as its head chef, sometimes working events they held in other countries. I've expanded my cuisine abilities quite far." Shirou laughed nervously. "Besides, I really like cooking."

"Well then, I don't mind sharing my kitchen space with you, so long as you show me some of your recipes."

"I think we can work out an agreement."

"Excellent," Miya sipped her tea. "Your daughter, Takara, how old is she?"

Shirou smiled again. "She's five, but she'll be six in a few months."

"Ah, she's quite young then."

"She is," Shirou replied. "But she's a handful, don't let her looks deceive you. She's just like her mother in that regard. She's a master manipulator." He smirked at his own joke. "But she's my daughter, but sometimes it's like I gave her nothing but my hair. She's basically her mother in almost every other way."

"Ah," Miya said. She set down her cup. "That reminds me, when will we be expecting her mother to arrive?"

Without missing a beat Shirou replied. "You won't."

"Oh, my apologies, are you separated?"

"No, I'm a widower, actually," he did not mix his words. "I'm sorry I didn't mention that earlier. Um, it's not something I like to talk about. So, can we talk about something else?"

"I'm sorry," Miya bowed quickly. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't. You didn't know, you have nothing to be sorry for." Shirou reached for his cup, his upbeat mood gone. "Why don't we finish our tea and I sign the lease?"

"Yes, I think that would be best."

Minutes later, Emiya Shirou and Emiya Takara were official residents at the Izumo Inn. A father and daughter were officially starting their new life.

 **AN:**

 **Here's the latest chapter. I know it's not up to standard, I promise to fix it later.**

 **As many of you have already guessed, Rin is dead. I cannot say how or why, it will be revealed as the story progresses. Feel free to leave a review or PM me with comments, critiques, suggestions, or if you just want to talk.**

 **A few of you were criticizing me in reviews about me giving Shirou a harem in this story, pointing out that he has a daughter and he's married (which he no longer is due to an incident).**

 **Let me be clear on one thing. This is not your usual crossover. This isn't some teenager or young man thrown into the middle of this situation nervous about losing his virginity or talking to women.**

 **This is about an ex-member of Division 13, an elite member of the Executors. The nod to Italy should have been straightforward, but I'll clear it up for those who didn't understand the reference. This is about a grown man, who's changed in his years, and is not a naïve boy with a dream anymore. Neither is he a cynical bastard, he's a man somewhere in between. This is a focus on a man with responsibilities, old and new, put into a situation where he can't be the person he was. He can't think of himself or strangers, he has to think about his family.**

 **This idea bugged me for quite some time. Everyone rips off In Flight, just about everyone does, but I'm not going to be that guy. I'm doing something different from everyone else; I'm daring to take on a challenge. I plan to see it through because before this idea, Foolish Royale was nothing more than a rip off. But I didn't want that, I wanted something all my own. That's how I came up with Foolish Royale as you see it.**

 **Let me clear this up. I already have this romance worked out. It isn't your jump and claim type, no. This is the responsible adult type. The 'courting' type, yes I did that in reference to Saber. The type where two adults communicate and attempt to connect to each other through realistic means.**

 **No Shirou does not replace Minato. This takes places months before the beginning of the series. He's still within this series. Shirou is 32, just so you know.**

 **But enough with my rant.**

 **I'll answer questions if I can.**

 **On an unrelated note, I just saw Civil War. I enjoyed it but I'm Team Iron Man. I'm Team Iron Man in the Comics, Team Iron Man in the Movies.**

 **He's in my top ten for comic book heroes. No particular order. Feel free to share yours.**

 **Green Arrow**

 **The Punisher**

 **Iron Man**

 **Deadshot**

 **Emma Frost**

 **Wasp (Janet van Dyne)**

 **Rorschach**

 **The Comedian**

 **John Constantine**

 **She-Hulk**

 **Also a question for everyone:**

 **You're going on a space journey with twelve anime characters, and you have to be one and the leader. You need to choose your ship and follow this list.**

 **Leader, Pilot, Swordsman, Assassin, Healer, Mentor, Love Interest, Gunner, Chef, Thief, Magic User, and Sidekick.**

 **My List**

 **Leader: Spike Spiegel-Cowboy Bebop**

 **Pilot: Gene Starwind-Outlaw Star**

 **Swordsman: Kenshin Himura-Ruroni Kenshin**

 **Assassin: Kakashi Hatake-Naruto**

 **Healer: Tsunade-Naruto**

 **Metor: Balgus-Escaflowne**

 **Love Interest: Yoruichi Shihōin-Bleach**

 **Gunner: Pip Bernadette-Hellsing Ultimate**

 **Chef: Jet-Cowboy Bebop**

 **Theif: Faye Valentine-Cowboy Bebop**

 **Magic User: Sola-Ui-Fate Zero**

 **Sidekick: Siegfried-Kenichi Mightiest Disciple**

 **Ship: The Bebop-Cowboy Bebop**

 **Well that's it for now. Leave a review if you can, I'd like to know what you think. Point out some grammar mistakes for me if you can, I'm not perfect and I don't claim to be, any help is welcomed.**

 **Thanks for reading. You have a good one.**

 **-Nikon Asturias**


	4. A Day in a New Life

**Disclaimer: I do not own FSN or Sekirei, or any other liscensed materials mentioned in here. They are each owned by their respective owners. I make no profit from this story and do it solely for fun. Please support the official release.**

Shirou was not known for being impatient. The opposite, however, was true. Part of it was due to his part in being Japanese, a people from a nation known for manners and propriety, but mainly for his upbringing.

Kiritsigu had raised him to be a patient man, primarily for his inability to cook. So, the son had taken responsibility from the father and had taken to preparing their meals. Skill in the culinary arts was something he had a talent for but it was not something he had been born knowing. Trial and error, over a span of weeks and months, had pushed him to becoming decent but patience and determination had made him into a true chef.

Unfortunately his hopeful employers did not see him as such. The interviews he had arranged had not gone according to plan would be considered a mild description.

"I'm sorry you didn't get the job, Emiya-san," Asama Miya who as of three weeks ago became Shirou's new neighbor. "I was certain you would get the job." She handed him a handful of carrots.

"It's fine," Shirou said. He began to chop them into pieces. The vegtables were for a stew he was making for dinner. A German recipe he picked up on in his early twenties. He learned it from an inn owner in a small town in Southern Germany. "I'll just look again tomorrow." Since moving back to his home country, to seek a new start with his only family, the unlucky Magus rediscovered why he earned his ill-fated moniker. "I can't keep getting rejected."

"I don't understand, Shirou. How could ten different restaurants turn you away?"

The man in question could only sigh. "They think I'm too old," he dumped his carrots into the pot. "They said I don't have what they're looking for in a kitchen."

Miya looked at him. He could see her brows furrow. To say they had become friends was fair. Despite the tenant and super relationship, they had found a common ground in the kitchen. She was competent. Her skills were not on his level, which were considered world class, however, she had not been average. A little more practice and tuning, she would be great.

"I'm sorry they're so foolish, Emiya-san." She was a very sincere woman. Honest and blunt. "I'm sure your other interviews will go well."

Shirou could only look at the boiling pot. "Asama-san, I've already finished my interviews."

"But tomorrow you said you would continue?"

"By continue, I mean I'm just going to go hunting. Drive around the city and look for any help wanted signs." To the elite, it was demeaning to look for work like that. Their name was sufficient in the upper tiers of the world. Reputation and prestige mattered but this was not the elite part of the world he looked to. Shirou did not want a job in a restaurant that charged a fortune for an appetizer. It was against his morals as a chef to overcharge food just as it was to give poor quality and quantity, hence his preference for a place of reason. Yet, all those places seemed to lack at the current time.

Miya was surprised. "But your resume is impeccable, isn't it."

"I'm not one to brag," Shirou replied. He took a sniff from their meal. _I just need to let it sit._ "But it's well…it's a good resume but if you look like an old man, and you're a single father, they're probably going to want the younger and responsibility free chefs instead."

"I'm sorry," she said. "But it's their loss." He could feel her looking over his shoulder. "When will our dinner be ready?"

"Two hours," Shirou smiled. His new landlady was a glutton. He learned that within the first two days. _A glutton for rules and for food._ "And don't be stealing the meat. The juices need to mix together. Miya was dejected.

"Okay," she could only pout. "But it smells good though."

"I know it does but it'll be even better later."

The next few minutes were spent cleaning their utensils and the kitchen counter. They continued to talk and it was comfortable. Him and Takara had only been living in the inn for the past two weeks and the routine and comfort of home was almost instant. There was limited space, yes; they had two neighbors, along with a shared bath and toilet, but the situation was good.

The little snow fairy that was his daughter had made herself at home right away. The backyard was what made her call the inn home. In England, they had a flat. A large flat with multiple bedrooms and more space than they needed but still were cramped. They lived in the middle of a city, like now, but had no immediate access to the park, Takara's favorite place to be. She enjoyed the outdoors more than their counterpart, free space to run and play. Shirou spent most weekends with her at the park than in their own home. There were the weekend train trips to the countryside, each one was a surprise filled with memorable days for his daughter, with stories of her mother and the aunt she never met.

Takara loved Aunt Saber. Shirou wish he could have introduced them to one another but all his daughter had of the King of Knights were stories.

"Two hours, Emiya-san?"

Shirou blinked and turned to his landlady. "Huh," he looked at her. "What was that?" They had already finished cleaning and were stepping out of the kitchen. She was eyeing him intently.

"You're sure about the stew taking two hours to prepare?" He could only smirk.

"You can't rush this recipe, Asama-san." They were walking toward the veranda. "It takes time for everything to mix together and taste just right. Otherwise the meat will be rough and the vegtables undercooked." Cooking was an art that could not be rushed. "Be patient. You'll see when the food's ready in a little while."

When they stepped outside, they were greeted by the sight of Takara sitting in the grass. She had been playing with her toy cars, along with a few other toys she got back. A portion of their belongings had arrived three day before via airmail. The rest was somewhere on the ocean, being delivered by a freighter. The wait for that arrival was a stretch more. The item in question was Shirou's car; in the meantime Cavan had given him the spare he kept in his garage. At the moment, Takara was driving her little machines over the grass. Lying next to her was a collection of her other favorite playthings. Her stuffed bear, half the Royal Army (her bodyguard as she would say) and the little sheriff from that toy movie she adored. She was lost in her little world and having fun. Like a little girl should be.

"She's very energetic," Miya said. "She's been out here since lunch." Shirou added.

"And after breakfast before that." He watched her crash her cars together, making little noises. "She's an energetic child. I don't know where she gets it from. My side or her mother's."

"Whatever the case, she's a beautiful little girl." Miya giggled behind her hand.

Shirou could not help but agree. He watched her for a few more seconds, then she saw him. As fast as her little legs could carry her, she came rushing over.

"Papa," she said. She latched on to his legs, encircling him. "When's dinner going to be ready, I'm hungry."

"In a few hours," he replied. "I need to let the stew sit, then we can eat it."

"Really, but I'm hungry." She hugged on to him. She had a tendency for impatience when cuisine was concerned. Her mother had the same sentiments when it came to food. He remembered one such event when they first lived in London together, when she worked for the Clocktower and he as a liaison.

" _Oi, Shirou, how long are we supposed to leave this stew on the stove." Rin said. She was dressed in her red sweater and black slacks. Her hair flowed to her waist. She had grown out of pigtails when high school ended. "I'm hungry." She was always hungry._

 _"The recipe says three hours," Shirou looked up at her. The white in his hair had overtaken the red. His skin was getting darker each day. His tastes for white and blue shirts and jeans had yet to change. "So, three hours." His girlfriend glared at him._

 _"Baka," she said. "You're telling me I have to wait three hours before I can have dinner." Did her hair over take her eyes? Why was the vicinity around her so dark?_

 _"Huh," Shirou gulped. "I told you it was going to take three…hou…hours. Rin…what are you doing? Rin, Rin! Rin!"_

 _"Baka!"_

 _Shirou could do nothing. Her fists pounded on to his chest and she kept him firmly on the kitchen floor. "You are going to make me some dinner right now!"_

 _"Ita, ita, ita," he winced. "I can't make it cook any faster!"_

 _She narrowed her eyes. "Then you either make me something before or we're going out for dinner tonight."_

 _This was bad. Rin would keep true to her threat. Especially when she was hungry. All her boyfriend could do was admit defeat. "I surrender." He said. "I'll go make you something. Give me ten minutes."_

 _She gave him her triumphant smirk. "You better not be stingy, I'm hungry." He could see her gleaming._

 _"You'll ruin your…" Her expression shifted back. "I'll just be a few minutes." Shirou corrected._

 _"I thought so."_

Shirou smiled down at his daughter, ruffling her hair. She pouted and scrunched her nose. Like she always did. Her tiny hands tried to move his larger one, with extreme prejudice. He gave out a deep chuckle.

"I'll make you something to eat, Takara. Then we can munch on that and play outside for a little, how does that sound?"

She smiled back at her father, no longer pouting. "Hai!" She ran back to her toys, more energetic than before. Miya coughed.

"She didn't notice me," she said.

"She has a tendency to overlook people sometimes," Shirou said. Since the first day, the landlady of the Izumo Inn had taken a great liking to her newest little tenant. She was a pseudo babysitter slash older sister figure, her words. If she wasn't working around the building, Miya spent time with the girl, either playing or helping her with her reading lessons, which was a relief on its own. Shirou had been worried about that. He had been teaching her when they were in England whenever he could. Learning English and Kanji at the same time was not an easy task, he had difficulty learning the Western tongue when he was in junior high, along with high school, but had since mastered it in those years. The situation was different with a five year old, even if she was sometimes too smart for her own good. Still, the lessons were more than helpful.

"You'll get used to it."

A small rain cloud seemed to appear over Miya's head. "Okay," she whispered.

"Right," Shirou wondered how it managed to appear but not get a single drop of water on her. "Do you want a snack too?"

"Yes," the cloud disappeared and she smiled brightly. "I would love a snack."

"Okay," Shirou said.

He decided on sandwiches with the bread they had. The bakery by the market had a special that day on French bread. He used some leftover ham they had from breakfast, along with garlic spread and some cheese he melted in the microwave. He could already feel the hovering behind him.

"Emiya-san," Miya was drooling. He didn't need to see it to know. He just did. "That looks delicious."

"I know it is," he replied. "I'll make us some tea to go along with it." He put both hers and Takara's meal on a plate. "Can you take this outside for me? I'll be along in just a few minutes." She nodded.

"Of course, don't take too long. Takara seemed very interested in playing with you."

"Don't worry," he handed her both plates, "I'll be out in just a bit."

When Miya was out of the room, Shirou began to make the tea. His daughter, who was very much like her mother, had enjoyed her beverage the very same way. Blistering hot with the triangle tea bags, tea tasted bad if it wasn't in the triangle tea bags. He made sure they had a steady supply of them on hand to avoid any issues. He knew one day (sooner than he would like) his daughter would begin working in the magical arts and when that day came, he hoped (sometimes prayed) she would not torment him like her mother when he made a mistake.

He did not want to relive the teddy bear nightmare of Spring 2013 again. She had the numbers too, a frightening predicament.

When the pot was ready, Shirou poured four cups; one for him, one for Takara, one for Miya and one for another tenant, who was attempting a poor excuse of a surprise scare.

"Don't even bother, Uzume." He said. "I heard you when you came down the stairs."

"Aw," she whined. "I was being sneaky too, bro." She smirked at him. Uzume was a young woman in her early twenties. She was taller than the average Japanese woman, coming to Shirou's shoulders, with long brown hair she kept in free except for the ponytail on the side of her head that went to her shoulder. She was dressed in a t-shirt a size too short and two sizes two tight with skinny jeans that stopped above her ankles. "Making food?"

"Yes," he replied. "At least a snack. Dinner won't be ready for another two hours."

"Whatcha making," she leaned in. His fellow tenant had a habit of trying to fluster him. He didn't know why but since their first meeting, she made it her goal to make the ancient hunk, her words, blush like a tomato. "It smells good." He could feel her pressing her breasts against his arm.

"Just some sandwiches." Shirou replied. So far, her attempts had yet to work. "Ham and garlic spread, a bit of cheese. Some tea, Takara's favorite. And we're having stew tonight for dinner. A German recipe I picked up when I was in a small town in the southern countryside."

She licked her lips. "The stew smells good, I can't wait to have some." And her eyes seemed to be locked on to him. "Along with some other things."

"It's not going to work, Uzume." Shirou replied. He handed her a portion of the refreshments and carried the rest on a tray to take outside. "And keep your flirting to a minimum when my daughter's around. I don't want her seeing anything like that."

The young woman laughed. "You're not my type, bro. A little too old and a bit too much man for my tastes." She smirked at him. "But maybe you can persuade me."

It was another thing she liked to do, make fun of his age. He was only thirty-two damnit; he was still young. His hair went white in his twenties; it wasn't his fault (despite the fact that it was). "I'm not that old." He ignored her final comment. "And remember, Miya can hear you."

"And she can see you."

Uzume nearly jumped out her pants as she turned around. Miya had come back during their conversation but Shirou said nothing. If Uzume wanted to play around, breaking the explicit house rules, who was he to deny the landlady her duty of keeping rule breakers in line?

"Mi…Miya…" Uzume gulped. "I was just kidding…joking around…" The reply she received was a freshly cleaned and sparkling ladle. One Shirou had dubbed the Ladle of Doom, for some reason, he felt the pain and anguish of a thousand poor souls whenever he saw it. He would not be surprised if it was a Noble Phantasm.

"Uzume, illicit behaviors are not permitted on these premise, inside or out." Her eyes were covered in a shroud of darkness, burning with the might of an almighty inferno. "How many times have I told you this?"

The young brunette could only step back in fear. "I promise I won't do it again," she squeaked, "Please."

She could only scream as justice was delivered. But Shirou was not present for it.

Instead, he was outside and sitting next to Takara. She was munching on her meal and sipping her tea when the screaming started.

"Uzume broke the rules again, didn't she, daddy?" She spoke in English.

Shirou replied. "She didn't listen, again. I swear it's like she does it on purpose."

"Maybe she likes getting in trouble?"

"Maybe," he took a sip of his tea. "How are you liking your snack Takara?"

"Yummy," she chirped. He could see bits of meat in her teeth as she smiled. "Thanks daddy."

"You're welcome princess," he smiled. They ignored the screams and pleas of mercy as they enjoyed their time together.

 _She's so much like her mother._

 **AN:**

 **This story is not dead. It's far from it. I've worked on it diligently for the past three months. The story is detailed outlined to chapter twenty one as of now, with further chapters planned and done accordingly. Yes, this does include the ending.**

 **If you're looking for Romance or Action, we still have a few chapters before that happens but it will be all barrels out when it does. I need to establish this story first.**

 **Details for the pairing:**

 **Like I said before, I've done the romance according to his character and have presented viable scenarios for it, as well as pacing. Don't expect it to happen the same chapter, things need a build up. And it is under wraps.**

 **Also, I am not a professional writer (fingers crossed, one day) and am learning with each word I type. So, if you would be so kind as to leave a review. Point out any errors or flaws, I can't catch them all since I do this unbetad for the most part.**

 **Thanks for reading and you have a good one.**

 **-Nikon Asturias**

 _P.S._

 _I've started a new story, a crossover of bleach and assassination classroom, called Death and the Strawberry. If you're interested, check it out and leave a review if possible._

 _May your day be fortunate and prosperous._


	5. A Night and Dinner

**AN: I do not own FSN or Sekirei, or any other licensed material mentioned in this story. I do this solely for fun and make no profit from it. Please support the official release.**

"Dinner's ready everyone," Shirou announced from inside the kitchen. "Come and get it while it's hot." He didn't have to wait long.

A stampede of starving beasts echoed through the halls. Ravenous and at the brink of hunger, he could only hope his cuisine was enough to satiate their appetite. If not, the battlefield would turn into a massacre. The chef could not stop himself from widening his eyes when his isolation came to an end.

"Me first!"

"Captain, you've known me longest. ME!"

"Come on, bro, please! I'm starving!"

"Ah, as I can recall, I am the owner of this inn and I believe I get first servings. Not to mention I did help prepare this meal!"

"No fair, I had classes until late today! I'm his assistant!"

Shirou sighed. His cooking had that effect on people. No matter what dish he prepared or how many times a person had sampled his cuisine, there was that rush and determination for that first serving.

"Papa!"

Too bad it was already reserved for someone else.

"Takara," the father smiled. "Where are you?"

"Papa," behind his fellow tenants, and guest, was his daughter's protests. "I'm back here! Pick me! Pick me!"

The man in questioned only smiled, holding a fresh bowl of stew. "Takara's first." And defeat echoed through the kitchen. "Hey, there's plenty to go round."

The little girl pushed herself to the front, nearly knocking down the brunette and moving the blond Irishman out of her way. She only cheered over the protests of her babysitter, who fell back on to the wall.

"Yay," she looked up at her father, her mother's eyes staring at him with sunshine. "Stew!"

Shirou ruffled her hair, ignoring her usual protest. "It's the German recipe, the one you really like."

She smiled at him. Her ruffled hair was even more disheveled from the enthusiasm. He noted to fix it later for her. Takara had a habit of being upset at the condition of her hair. The two of them appreciated the time he spent combing her hair.

"Really?"

"Yes," he gave her the bowl. "Why don't you and Miya go into the dining room, you too Uzume. There's something I need to talk to Cavan about."

"Hai!" Shirou watched as his child turned to the landlady. "Let's go, Sis!"

"Of course," Miya smiled at the girl. She had told her to call her sister. She did not like being called aunty for some odd reason. Then again, Shirou had a difficult time understanding women. No matter how much time he spent around them, some things he would never understand. "Come on then, Takara." She wrapped an arm around the girl. "You too, Uzume."

The woman in question gulped. "Of course, Miya. I'm coming." She grabbed a pair of bowls before stepping out.

"And don't be stealing other people's food, Uzume!"

"Hai, no problem…"

Shirou turned to Cavan. He saw the boy smiling at him. He was wearing a white sweatshirt with the emblem of Real Madrid over his heart, along with blue jeans and a pair of thick square rimmed glasses.

"Hey there, Cavan." Shirou said. He pressed his back against the kitchen wall, eying the young Magus. "How are things?"

"Busy," he shrugged. "Ta' semester project has been in the arse. Not to mention ta' tests and other small things tat won't stopping piling on." He sighed into his hand. "College…a fuckin' pain."

"You shouldn't swear so much." Shirou looked at the boy. He didn't move so he continued. "It's not attractive and I don't want Takara to pick up on those words."

"Sorry," Cavan whispered. He had a look of shame on his face. From a young age, Shirou knew the boy had that same lecture on language since he was Takara's age. All thanks to the older brothers he had been raised with. "I don't mean to. A habit I have, not easy to turn off."

"Don't worry, I understand. I remember when your grandfather would break in the new boys, he didn't care about the pain they were in or the circumstance, he doesn't want the boys swearing."

"Ay," the boy scratched his head. He took more than one blow to the head from the man. "I can still feel the stick of righteousness."

They shared a laugh. The old man had a few of his 'Holy Weapons' to combat the influence of sinner in his domain.

"So," Shirou wiped at his eye. Those were good memories, some of them anyway. "How is your life, really? And don't give me any lies. I know all your tells."

"How," Cavan asked. His carefree expression gone, in its place was confusion and frustration. "How do ya' know exactly?"

"Please, I have my sources. I have my ways."

The boy eyed the doorway, looking to see if anyone was watching. "Somedays, Captain, ya' can be trooly frustrating."

"It's my job," Shirou said. "Besides, I promised your grandfather I'd look out for you while I was in Tokyo."

"Shin-Teito," Cavan corrected. "The city's Shin-Teito now." His senior did nothing more than shake his head.

"I think it's a travesty to rename this city, considering all of its history. An insult to all Japanese and our culture." Shirou said. "It's hard for me to grasp that M.B.I. is a Japanese brand." He eyed the tea pot on the stove. "Care for a cup?"

"Yes," Cavan said. "I could use one."

Minutes passed and both men were now standing in front of one another, a fresh cup of lemon tea in hand, two spoonfuls of sugar and honey for Cavan's cup and nothing but the tea in Shirou's own. "So," he began. "How have things been for you lately?"

"Fine for the most part," the Irishman said. His demeanor shifted once more. Now, sullen and hesitant he continued. "Had to deal with a crazy one the other day. Wasn' pretty. Had some nasty things in a basement. He was tryn' to build some kin'a thing with bugs. I hate bugs, especially roaches."

Shirou knew the perils of the World of the Magus. Every day was different, more often than not for the worst. He had seen it and lived it; from the fires of Fuyuki to the Grail War and to his time in the Eight Sacrament. Death and peril were as commonplace to him as a shower or dinner. He had fallen into a routine with them. "I take it he used roaches?" He sipped his tea.

"A lot of them." Cavan licked his lips. "Nearly got eaten by a couple." He smirked. "But I'm not that easy to takedown. I'm Anderson blood. We don't go unless we take ta' enemy to Hell first."

Shirou could only eye the boy. "You know I'm here, I can help you if a situation gets too bad. Just call me." The rebuttal was a shake of the head.

"Na, Captain. I can't get ya involved in this. Shin-Teito is my jurisdiction. Unless you get my say so, you can't operate here."

"Don't pull that on me kid, Anderson or no, you're years behind me." Shirou took a few steps to Cavan, planting his hand on the shoulder of the boy. "Don't rush to meet death. You have a long life to live." The boy kept his eyes fixed on his feet, for some reason they had caught his attention. "You need to let go." Shirou could feel him stiffen in his grip.

"I'm fine, Captain." Cavan removed the hand from his shoulder. "There's nothing you need to worry about. I'm fine. Work and all. If I need help, I'll go to the boys."

"The boys," Shirou asked. This was the first he had heard of such a thing. "Who are they?"

"A comic book," Cavan smiled, his sullenness gone and forgotten. "Written by the great Garth Ennis. Not for the weak hearted or the squeamish. It's very graphic."

"Cavan…"

The young son of Ireland only smiled more. "Just a few Magus I know in the city, ya know…second and third sons who chose a normal life instead of the politics of being Magus. They're not too shabby. We've dealt with a few interesting situations." He smirked. "We haven't lost anyone yet."

Shirou bit his tongue. Death was a sensitive topic for his counterpart, best avoided in his presence. But this topic had gotten out of hand and best to be ended promptly.

"Don't be cocky," Shirou mumbled. "Let's join the others for dinner, make sure you grab the bread." Minutes later, the dinning hall was joined by the pair and dinner truly began.

"So, Cavan," Uzume said. She had already started on her third bowl and fifth piece of bread. "Whatcha study in school?"

"I'm an engineer," he smiled. "I think I told ya this before but yeah, I'm an engineer. Mechanical engineering to be more specific. I wanta' build myself a mech, fight in space." He stood up promptly. "Like the mighty Heero Yuy, fighting against tyranny for a cause greater than my own life."

Shirou could only watch as Cavan made slashing gestures, flying noises and act like a child in front of everyone. He sipped his tea to hide his laughter. Takara watched him mesmerized, while Miya looked surprised and Uzume was embarrassed for him.

"And open up my heart ta the girl a' my dreams, marry her and fly off into the stars." He placed his hands on his hips, staring at the ceiling as if it were the horizon.

Uzume only looked at him, her bread sinking into her meal and flabbergasted at the maturity of someone close to her age. "Alright bro, sounds…cool."

"I know, right?" Cavan chuckled as sat back down. "Now I just need to find me a pretty girl with a taste for adventure and a love for danger."

 **Whack**

"Ow," Cavan cried. His hand went to his skull, running over a fresh bump.

"Eat normally at the dinner table," Miya scolded. Shirou noticed she had a ladle in her hand, and if he was correct, it was in the kitchen.

 _Unless she has more of them._ On occasion, he had seen the lavenderette strike his joyful resident for rule breaking. Something about her not keeping her modesty. He never asked. Women had a habit of being very aggressive when he was around. Again, he did not know why.

"My head," Cavan moaned. "My poor head."

"I will not tolerate immaturity at my dinner table." Darkness enveloped Miya's figure. "Is that understood, Anderson-san?"

The boy gulped. "Hai, Asama-sama." Once more, he was complacent and began to eat his dinner in silence.

"He, he, he, he," Takara chuckled. "Oni-chan is scared of Miya-chan." She smiled wickedly at him. "Scaredy cat."

Shirou smirked at his daughter. When she was right, she was right. Cavan did have a history of being intimidated by women, then again, he was certain that all men did.

"Shrimp," Cavan retorted. He sipped his tea as he looked at his young counterpart. "At least I'm taller than you and I don't have a bed time."

Takara just glared at him. It would have worked if she weren't so tiny. "You're just jealous of my friends."

"At least my friends are real." The Irishman kept up his glare.

The girl did not back down. "My friends are real. They're just sleeping."

"Yeah and pigs can fly."

"Pigs can fly!"

"No they can't," Cavan screamed back.

"Yes they can," Takara retorted.

"No, they can't."

"Yes, they can."

Shirou could only watch from the side. He remembered that when Rin would argue (being right, as she called it) there was no swaying her. Even if it was over something as small as who threw out the garbage last or as complicated as him working for the Church, it was never healthy for a man to argue with a woman, and God have mercy for a man arguing with a Tohsaka woman, young or old, because she certainly won't.

"No, they can't." Cavan leaned down, trying to intimidate the five-year-old girl.

"Yes, they can!" Takara stood on her tiptoes.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Yes, because you were on a plane last month!"

And that was the final straw.

Normally, a father would step in to defend his child. Son or daughter, the father would be there to defend them in an instant. Now, most fathers were did not have a daughter with Tohsaka blood. And, for instances such as this, she was more than capable of taking care of the situation herself.

"Cavan-kun," Takara said. Her voice was sweet, too sweet, like an entire box of sugar being poured in a cup of coffee. Her eyes had been overtaken by shadows and they seemed to of turned crimson. "Did you just call me a piggy?"

"Uh," he gulped. It didn't matter that he was trained to fight the occult and monsters. It was irrelevant that Cavan Anderson came from a line of warriors. "No…"

"Really…" She trained her eyes on him.

"Uh…AH!"

"I'm really sorry about that, Miya-san." Shirou said. Dinner had been finished for the last two hours, Cavan was back home and Takara tucked into bed. The standoff between the pair ended with Cavan being mauled by the small child and begging for mercy, all the while the other three occupants stood idly by, leaving the boy to his fate. He dug his own grave; he had no choice but to lay in it. "I didn't mean for the situation to get out of control. But you know how kids can get? Especially when they're as energetic as those two."

"It's not a problem, Emiya-san. I'm sure Takara taught Cavan his lesson for the day."

"Yeah, being mauled on the nose sure is a unforgettable lesson." After the incident and prying the Jaws of Life from Cavan's face. "But knowing him and his short term memory, he'll probably forget and get into trouble again."

The landlady could not hide the giggle behind her hand. She and Shirou had been cleaning the kitchen and the leftover plates and bowls from dinner. The task at hand was easier with the two of them rather than them working separately. It was because of that, that the pair found themselves on the veranda beneath the moonlight, sharing a drink with one another.

"This hot chocolate is delicious, Emiya-san." The landlady had already gone through two cups of the beverage. "How do you make it?"

"Well, Miya-san, my secret is that I use real chocolate bars melt them before I add in the milk." Shirou sipped from his own brew.

"Is that it?"

"No," he shook his head. "There's more to it than that but I don't feel like sharing my recipes tonight. Maybe another time?"

"Of course," Miya replied, sipping from her nearly empty cup. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

Shirou shook his head. "It depends on the question."

"How is it that you know Cavan?"

"Cavan? Why do you ask?"

The landlady titled her head. "I'm curious. It just seems to me that you two have known each other for a long time, and Takara considers him to be an older brother. I can't help but wonder how you know him."

"It's a fair question," Shirou set down his cup. "And I met him through my work."

"Through work?"

"I told you I'm a chef, didn't I?" Miya nodded. "Well, I studied in Italy for a few years, before I branched out into Europe, America and a few other places. And when I was in Italy, I studied under his grandfather, Alexander, a good man, rough around the edges and overly religious at times, but he's a honest man who does what he knows is right. But enough about that, I studied under him for a time and he taught me most of what I know and I learned the rest from people along the way. And I worked with his father a handful of times. He was a good man. His name was Duncan. But that's not how I met Cavan I didn't meet him until I was twenty three and living in London."

"Ah, what were you doing in London," Miya asked, in between sipping her cocoa.

"That's another interesting story, one I'll save that for another day, but I…ah…I was living with my wife. I met her, again, at her school and it was a little awkward. I was brought there to give a lecture in the culinary department and she just happened to be in the room when I just met the instructor. And…well…" he scratched his neck awkwardly. "She wasn't really happy to see me."

"Why is that?"

Shirou gulped. This moment wasn't something he was proud of, even if he did lie about a majority of the events he had been describing, simply altering their functions and roles, this part was true. "I was offered a place in that culinary school," he half-whispered. "And I didn't tell Rin, I didn't tell anyone. All I did was leave a note after graduation before leaving." He reached for his chocolate. It tasted bitter. "I just said I needed to find…find my place in the world." He turned his gaze up to the moon. "But then again, I was just a stupid kid. I didn't know what I had then." _I thought I had to live someone else's dream. And I was wrong. What's the point in being a Hero of Justice when there's nothing to live for?_ "And well I was surprised to bump into her in England. She grew out her hair and stopped wearing her pigtails. The last time I saw her, she was a girl. I couldn't believe what I saw when…well. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She also had a very good right hook, which she promptly used my face for."

Shirou huffed. "But to make a long story short, she was Cavan's babysitter when he was in England, as a favor for his family. That's how I met him. He was barely ten years old then, scared of his own shadow and more concerned with his cartoons than anything else."

"He was a good kid in those days, now all he does is try to cause trouble. But then again, he's just a kid. Doesn't know what he wants. He thinks he does but he doesn't have a single clue."

Shirou reached for his cup and drank the last of it. It had gotten cold; he hadn't realized how long he had been talking. It was hot when he started.

"Well, it looks like I'm out of my drink."

"Me too," Miya added. She didn't seem as cheery as she was earlier. "I'll grab you another drink."

"I'm fine. You don't need to Miya. I should be going to sleep anyway."

"No, no, I insist. Besides, it's nice to talk to somebody. I like to hold a conversation with somebody now and then."

Shirou could not refuse. For some odd reason, his gut had told him to stay where he was and not go against this woman's wishes.

"Well, who am I to refuse such a generous offer."

"Good, I'll be back in a few minutes," and she was off, leaving Shirou by himself on the veranda. With only his thoughts keeping him company.

The Magus could only wait for Miya. Which, to his surprise was not long at all. As quickly as she left, he heard her footsteps coming from behind him.

"I didn't think it-"

Shirou had no time to react as he was enveloped by the scent of sake and cherry blossoms. A pair of arms wrapped around him and his face was buried into the chest of an inebriated woman, primarily because her breasts were overly large.

"You're back, I missed you so much!"

 **AN:**

 **Hey, so that's this chapter. I'm a little unsure of it but I'd like to know your opinions on it. Yes, that is Kazehana at the end. She has made her first appearance within this story.**

 **I apologize for any and all grammatical errors. They'll be dealt with promptly.**

 **Thanks for reading, if you can, please leave a review. You have a good one.**

 **-Nikon Asturias**


	6. Six

**AN: I do not own FSN or Sekirei. They belong to their respective owners. I make no money from this story and do it solely for fun. Please support the official release.**

The scent of sake and blossoms almost blinded Shirou. The cloth that now covered his eyes finished the job. "Excuse me," he said, or tried to. Instead what came out was, "Mumrume." In a few seconds, some random drunk had caught one of the most lethal men in the world off guard. If the person were an assassin, he would be bleeding out on the wooden floor, not suffocated by a pair of breasts. Somehow, that did not ease the shame of him being caught in such a position.

"I can't believe it's you," the woman was clearly drunk. "I can't believe it's really you." She did nothing but slur as she ranted on. "It's been so long."

 _It's been so long since I've had some air._ Shirou mentally groaned. He tried to pry himself from the woman's grip but nothing seemed to work, she only constricted her arms around him tighter, keeping his own pinned beneath her. _She's rather strong_ , he thought. _How am I going to get out of this?_

He began to brainstorm plans, ones that did not involve injuring or maiming his captor, since they were the easiest but not certainly the most conventional. How could he explain the chain or the fire? Some things commonplace for a Magus simply weren't for normal humans.

Fortunately, for both parties, it did not come to that.

"Kazehana," his landlady's voice cracked like a whip. "What are you doing to my tenant?"

Kazehana, who held Shirou at her mercy, let him go as if he was on fire. "Miya…" she slurred. "I didn't know you were letting my darling stay here, I would have…. I would… have made myself more…app… appropriate." The way she spoke, not to mention her rancid breath, was proof of her nightly activities.

Miya could only sigh. "Kazehana… this isn't him. This is my tenant."

"But… I thought… he…" the woman tilted her head. Her pretty face flushed from the poison in her veins. "He looks just like him." Then she pouted.

Shirou found it strange. Normally he does not bother with concerning himself on a woman's appearance, the label of being shallow was something he never had branded for himself. Yet he could not help himself as he looked at this stranger. Though she was kneeling on the ground, he could see she was taller than most women. Her long legs pooled around her on the wooden floor, their pale skin expose for all the eye to see. She was wearing a dress he had seen on waitresses in a Shanghai nightclub, the lavender fabric traveled down to her mid-thigh, if that. The middle of her torso was mostly naked, mostly, the stitching crisscrossing over her midsection, exposing her belly button. Her face was delicate with high cheekbones, covered in a blush. Her long black hair was tied in a ponytail; some wild strands were over her eyes. In all, she was beautiful and nothing else.

"Excuse me," Shirou said. He kept his eyes trained on the new woman, an easy task for him, but not for most men. Her top heavy assets weren't difficult to spot, after all, they had nearly taken his life. "But, uh, what's happening right now? I'm confused."

Both women shared a look before Miya spoke. Shirou knows he had seen it somewhere before.

"Shirou," the lavenderette began, "This is an old friend of mine. Kazehana. Kazehana, this is Emiya Shirou. He is a tenant here, along with his daughter." She emphasized on the last word.

"Oh," the other woman slurred before drinking from a bottle of sake Shirou hadn't seen. "Okay then, Shirou."

No honorifics, Shirou noticed. But it didn't bother him. He had spent a significant part of his life in the west and other places where civility and manners were an after thought, if they had even been there at all.

"Kazehana," he replied. "It's nice to meet you." He fidgeted with his hands for a moment, something of a habit around women he developed. He shifted on the floor, uncomfortably, "So…how long have you two known each other?"

He was surprised when it was Kazehana who answered, "Oh, about…ten years…ten years, wasn't it Miya?"

"Twelve, Kazehana," Miya answered with a false smile. "We've known each other for twelve years."

"Right, twelve years then." She gulped from her sake again. They were greedy ones at that.

From there, the conversation shifted to Shirou, something he held no enthusiasm for, but he was truthful (as he could be) with his answers. At first he talked about his time in London, adding in bits about his times in Rome, Oslo, Prague, and Paris. Cities that he did more than simply 'work' in, he actually had catered to events in the latter cities, only when his primary task had been completed. Though, he did not mention that. He talked about his desire for coming back to Japan, as well as the convenience of having a friend who lived in the capital. From there, he told them about Cavan, as well as his overprotective grandfather, Alexander, who was vehemently against his desire (as well as denying his overprotectiveness) to study in such a distant place. The pair had been living in Rome in the orphanage his grandfather oversaw, along with some of the orphans who decided to follow the path of God and helped their former caretaker keep the facility up to code. He talked about Alexander a little more, a kind old man with the presence of a bear. Miya giggled behind her hand when he talked about him.

"Ah, so he was your mentor in culinary school?" She asked.

Shirou nodded. "He was a very good mentor." There were days the old man was more than that. Failure was not something he tolerated. He still had the scars on his back from the Father's training, the ache in his knees from where they were shattered. "Just a little strict. He didn't look over any small mistake, he always expected perfection and more."

They continued on for a half hour, until Kazehana passed out on Shirou's shoulder and he volunteered to carry her upstairs into one of the spare rooms. She was light, not to say that she was heavy, but lighter than he expected. Mixed into the smell of her liquor was the distinct smell of cherry blossoms. He didn't know why but he could feel it stinging his nose, maybe she was wearing a perfume?

When they finally arrived to the room, he set down his drunken charge into the fresh bedding Miya had set up. By the efficiency she had worked at, he figured this was not the first time she had done so. And far from the last, he surmised, by the way she drank from the bottle.

They left her face down in a pillow, the soft sounds of her snores filling the dark room.

Halfway down the stairs, Miya apologized to Shirou. "I didn't know she was in town," she began. "If I did, I would have warned you ahead of time. I'm glad your daughter didn't have to deal with this, I don't think it would have been quite as smooth."

"No," Shirou set his hands on his hips. "I don't think it would have but you don't need to apologize, Miya. Things happen. I'm glad it happened when it did, I rather Takara be asleep than have to deal with a drunk person again. It was an awkward situation."

Miya's eyes flashed for a moment. "When did this happen?"

That look made Shirou gulp. He remembered it from somewhere. "We were attending a ball, yes I mean it. We were at a formal Winter Ball last year. A friend of mine, Luvia, her family has them, and she invited us to the ball. I couldn't really say no, she's my daughter's godmother and they're really close." He tried not to think about that night. "One of her cousins was drunk, he couldn't hold his liquor, but to make a long story short, I ended up knocking out some of his teeth when he said some less than unsavory things about my wife."

She was quiet for a moment, glaring at the ground, imagining it was the perpetrator. "This was after your wife had..."

"Died, yes," Shirou finished for her. "She died when Takara was really young, she wasn't even a year old yet. She doesn't even have a single memory of Rin, just stories and pictures. Not much but at least it's something." For a moment, Shirou thought of his parents. Not Kiritsigu, the man who became his father when he didn't have to, but his real parents, the ones who were related to him by blood. He never thought about it when he was young, he didn't think it mattered but the day the doctor handed him Takara, wrapped in her blanket, as she looked at him for the first time, he began to understand. When the sleepless nights started, him and Rin being woken at all hours to shrieking and crying, he began to wonder. Did his family look for him? Did they even miss him? Or did they disappear in the fire? He would never know, he thought, but part of him wanted to, if only to sate his doubt. "But at least she knows her mother loved her very much."

"Yes," Miya agreed. "Well, Kazehana isn't that sort of drunk. She's just…friendly."

"No, it's fine. I think Takara would have just laughed, honestly. She isn't the type to let anything bother her. She's a friendly child, but I think you know that already."

Miya nodded. Her eyes were warm, Shirou noticed. "Well, I'll still tell her to cut down her drinking. She likes her sake, a bit too much, but she doesn't mean anything by it."

"I would appreciate it if you did, I'm just a stranger to her and I don't want to impose." Shirou preferred not to overstep his bounds; his nature was not to impose himself on to others but help them.

"I will, Emiya-san, don't worry."

Shirou only nodded at Miya before he felt the day catch up to him. "I should probably get to bed," he yawned into his hand. "I have to get up early if I'm going to meet my future employer."

"Of course, I'll see you in the morning."

By the time Shirou was inside his room, he could barely keep his eyes open. When his head hit the pillow, he was off to the land of dreams, filled with swords and fire.

 _He found the cocktail server with her throat open and he right arm in the maws of a beast on all fours. It had grey putrid skin, with black goo oozing from its side. There were two red orbs the size of soccer balls for its eyes. It gave off a foul odor, a mixture of rotten eggs and ammonia, and was the size of three full grown men._

 _Most people would be afraid but Shirou was not most people. This was his purpose, his life; to eradicate all threats to mankind; to defend the sheep from the wolves, for he was the Shepard. This was his duty._

 _"Trace on," he whispered. And a spear formed in his hands, two heads taller than him, covered in the blood of those who killed it. It echoed for the blood of the beast. "I am a Soldier of Iscariot." The beast came forward, its meal forgotten in favor of fresh meat._

 _He stood tall, waiting for it to strike. Then acted. He stepped backwards as it leapt at him, claws extended and jaws open, ducking beneath the beast. He rolled on his sides, and then leapt to his feet, over the filth of the alleyway, his spear ready once more. The beast called out in anger, turning back to him, roaring in hunger._

 _"A blade of justice." He kept his spear ready, pointed forward. The beast charged. "A holy weapon."_

 _If it had been another man, he would have run by down. He would have been dead._

 _Yet he was not another man._

 _Chains from air wrapped themselves around the joins of the monster. It echoed and moaned, jaws clamping on the air. It seems it did not know it was trapped. The beast struggled and snapped, it roared and howled, but it would not go free. Those chains would let nothing go free._

 _Emiya Shirou approached the beast, the Hound of Ulster's spear in his hand. He would not delay anymore. The blade exited through the back end of the beast's mouth. It shook and squealed. Its putrid blood trailed down the shaft before it disappeared in a golden light, as did the chains. The body collapsed onto the ground, its rolls jiggling from the impact. He recited an enchantment and its body caught fire. He did the same for the unlucky woman._

 _That night, he hunted down the heretic and burned him from his hole. For that was his purpose._

 _He was an Executor._

 _He was Emiya Shirou._

 _He was the New Magus Killer._

 **AN:**

 **Hey, there.**

 **I know this isn't too well but I'll fix it later.**

 **Life's been hell for me these last few months. A good friend of mine died in September. Then my grandmother broke her hip the week after I attended his memorial. She died this month. So it hasn't been easy. Please understand.**

 **That's kinda why this chapter sucks. I needed to have something out, to show I wasn't done with this.**

 **On another note, I've put a poll on my profile for a series of one-shots and mini-arcs for bleach. They're romance centric. They feature uncommon pairings that I've never seen done properly or there are not enough of. So, check it out.**

 **If you can, please leave a review. Thanks for reading. You have a good one.**


	7. message to all it may concern

Good morning, afternoon, and evening to all who read this message, Nikon Asturias here with an update for you, the reader.

As you know, back in November my grandmother passed away. She was 90 and lived a full life but it didn't make it any less painful to watch her go. It was something I'll never forget and not a day goes by that I don't think of the woman who raised me. With that said, I took time away from everything to sort out my life and where I want to go in the future.

With that being said, I have been writing since the day she passed in order to keep my mind focused on anything else but that. Some days I got a few hundred words out, others I've gotten into the ten thousand range. It's helped me a lot since then.

But enough with the rambling. I have some good news and some not so good news concerning my stories.

 **Foolish Royale** : Fate Stay Night and Sekirei

This story has been a baby of mine for years. I've been working on it for around 4 years at this point. While it doesn't show online, if you saw my notebooks and drafts, that would be a different story. I've taken it in so many different directions that it isn't even a joke.

This story is not dead and is far from it. I just did a revamp on the current plot and am prepared to publish the first two chapters within the month. I just got distracted by some other stories at the moment that I'm working on, both fanfiction and original. So be on the lookout for it's republishing.

 **Sekirei Protector** : Bleach and Sekirei

Like above, this story is a baby of mine. It is far from being abandoned. I just had to take a step back from it in order to get it organized. Like Foolish Royale, it will be republished with its first two chapters as well.

 **Unforgiving Hero** : Star Wars and Justice League

Unlike my previous two, this story had been deleted. I just realized I had ruined a good story with some fanboy tendencies that have been abandoned in favor of making something with a good plot. This one is close to being republished and should see something out within two weeks at the latest.

 **The Protector's Wish** : Bleach and Fate Stay Night

Again, another story I've disappointed myself with. This was due to poor planning and even worse execution. I've gone through both fandoms and have decided on a more solid plot. All I can say for this story is that certain elements have been kept and others have been abandoned. Though, readers will need to wait for its republishing to see.

 **The Mightiest English Teacher** : Bleach and Kenichi the Mightiest Disciple

Again, this got completely revamped. Its first chapter is going through final edits at the moment.

 **Ardor and Blades** : Bleach

This one shot series and mini-arc series will be published soon. The first arc, Ichigo and Yoruichi, is still being polished as of now. The premise for this story follows Ichigo in Soul Society, born of Shiba Isshin and Yamamoto Masaki (the daughter of the Captain Commander), as he makes his way from childhood to manhood.

There's a poll for the second arc/one-shot on my profile now. Just select the one you want to see.

New Stories:

 **Man or Monster** : Tokyo Ghoul and Bleach Crossover

I've recently gotten into Tokyo Ghoul and I just got hooked on the series overnight. I read every single chapter for the first series in a day. Then read the sequel series the next. I gotta say, :re is not as good as the first one. I think it just went in a direction I just didn't like. But that's just me.

Back to what I wanted to say, I got to thinking and I brainstormed a plot line. What if it was Ichigo Kurosaki who became a ghoul and not Ken Kaneki? Now, this idea just wouldn't leave me alone. I could not get it out of my head, so I just grabbed a blank notebook and got to writing. Within a few days, I filled up over half the pages with notes for a plot and outlined several chapters before opting to use my computer (which I normally do to save paper). Now, this story isn't just an insert new character and follows the story in the same exact way. I've done my best to avoid that as much as possible, but some scenarios just can't be avoided, though I won't say which ones. This story isn't for the feint of heart, I'll be getting back in touch with my roots of writing horror stories with this one.

I used to be the kid in school who scared kids because I could come up with horror stories on the spot. Used to give my classmates nightmares with them. Good times.

 **The Exile** : Star Wars and Marvel

Sort of like Unforgiving Hero but a Marvel story. This one won't be following Revan but instead the Exile from KOTOR II. I can't indulge the world with a crude summary but I can say this, the Exile makes for a great **teacher**. Take that however you will.

 _I don't really have much more to say to you than this. But thank you, all of you for reading and following these stories. It means a lot that there's someone in the world who reads this. Thanks for reading this far, if you have any questions or comments, leave a review for this chapter or PM me, I'll respond._

 _Don't worry, I'll be taking this story down and replacing it with it's newest version later, to start fresh. Once again, thanks for reading and have a great day._

 _-Nikon Asturias_


	8. I live and I'm back

**I just published the new version of this story. It's not much but it's a start.**

 **Don't worry, it's planned out and there is an exit plan for it. I didn't come here with a spontaneous story. And it is not, I repeat, it is not, a dime a dozen copy of In Flight by Gabriel Blessing. I'm still going my own route.**

 **Well, that's all for now. Thanks for following for as long as you have if you have been. If you're new, welcome to the end of Foolish Royale and the beginning of a Fool's Game.**

 **You have a good one.**

 **-Nikon Asturias**

 **This story will be taken down in two weeks. Out with the old and in with the new.**


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